


Is this a soldier or a magpie?

by AltheaShepard



Series: Soldier [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaShepard/pseuds/AltheaShepard
Summary: Letters and gifts arrive as one stays and the other ventures.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel & Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: Soldier [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020352
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Is this a soldier or a magpie?

The first letter comes after they take Baelsar’s wall and a primal disaster is averted. Congratulations on a well executed siege and the first successful maneuver into Imperial territory since the region was lost. It reads more like a formal report of observation than a congratulations but in truth, he’s just happy to hear from his friend in his own words and not from some other messenger of a decidedly more… bleak manner. He writes back quickly, encouraging and warm and firmly reminding the other man to take care of himself. 

The second letter comes with a chastisement of whom is unable to care for whom. It also comes with a tin of delightfully smelling tea. 

The third letter follows a similar format of the first, more of a report than anything else. It speaks of the destruction of a terrifying sounding weapon and the capture of an important figure within the occupying ranks. He can’t help a smile at a certain line, imagining Estinien’s grumble as he begrudgingly says, 

_ “The boy had best be grateful. I can’t keep going out of my way doing favors to make sure they don’t get blown up.” _

If his friend were here he would certainly be teasing him about it as he flipped the chocobo emblazoned coin over the backs of his fingers. But, as he isn’t, he settles for sending another letter with his teasing and a few ties for long silver hair tucked inside. Pouncival manages to walk across the letter as he’s sealing it, a faint paw print on the envelope that he takes the moment to outline. Estinien will surely find it silly but then, the man also thought it silly of him to carry what was meant to be a barn cat all the way from the southern stables to the Congregation. A cat that became his frequent nap partner when he was in the city. 

What would be an amusing gift with the fourth letter in actuality causes a stone to settle in his stomach. The spirit is high proof, amber colored and firmly corked with a wax seal in a small padded box. The letter set over top the gift is another report, coming moments before a messenger informs him that Rhalger’s Reach has been invaded and the Resistance’s numbers have been decimated. The letter speaks to much of the same, Harellan and her companions falling back to Castrum Oriens. He’s careful in his consumption that night, sipping the spirit slowly and savoring the warming burn down his throat. 

The next few letters come in rapid succession, detailing the goings on in Ala Mhigo as Harellan sails east to assist Doma. As if the woman doesn’t already have enough on her plate with one revolution. Each letter is accompanied by a gift of some sort. Another tin of that same tea (that he won’t let Lucia anywhere near for fear of it being ruined), a handful of carefully shaped stones Estinien had called worry stones (one was a delightful grey with shimmering flecks that nearly matched a certain someone), a ridiculous bundle of feathers and string that no doubt was for Pouncival, a brilliant feather that he immediately had fashioned into a quill, and a lovely leather bound tome he hadn’t had the chance to read yet. As he unwrapped the latest gift, carefully setting aside the small letter accompanying it, he hears Lucia huff in amusement.

“Something amusing, Lucia?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

His second has an amused smirk curling the corner of her mouth, eyeing the half wrapped parcel in his hands.

“I’ve just been thinking lately, Sir, that Estinien seems rather like a magpie.”

“A magpie?”

“Hm. A small black and white bird native to Limsa Lominsa and Gridania known for liking shiny objects and delivering them as gifts should one win their favor.”

Thinking back on the gifts he can’t help but agree, chuckling as he unwraps the parcel. A lovely leather pouch of dark red with a golden clasp and a series of leaves stamped into the leather that would fit perfectly on his belt. Lucia shakes her head, chuckling along with him.

“Magpie.”

In his return letter, he states as much, even going so far as to carefully sketch an image of the bird in question once he’d acquired a reference of it. 

_ “I rather think she may be on to something, given how very shiny some of your gifts have been, My Friend,” _ he writes and seals the letter with a bit of metallic wax he’d purchased for just such an occasion. 

The letter is wrapped with the small box of elk jerky and sent on its way. 

Two weeks later and he has a response. The gift this time is a new clasp for his ear, a lovely dark metal with a stone curved around the top that shifts colors in the light. The final note at the bottom of the rather short letter, accompanied by the sniff of disdain he can certainly read between the lines for, leaves him chuckling as he affixes the new clasp in place.

_ “I at least have better taste.” _


End file.
